


I Should've Asked A Poet

by kyluxalot



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Gay Keith (Voltron), Insecure Lance (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, Oblivious Keith (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-12 01:32:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15984737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyluxalot/pseuds/kyluxalot
Summary: Let me start by saying that there was nothing and no one in the world that could possibly make me want to speak my truth as much as Keith did.I hadn’t spoken more than a few sentences, if that, since my sophomore year of high school. There was nothing wrong with me, no trauma, no family issues, nothing like that. I just got sick of hearing myself say stupid stuff. I was sick of hearing myself be a doughe bag, but I didn’t really know how to cope with self hate either. So I just stopped talking. But, back to Keith.





	I Should've Asked A Poet

Let me start by saying that there was nothing and no one in the world that could possibly make me want to speak my truth as much as Keith did.  
I hadn’t spoken more than a few sentences, if that, since my sophomore year of high school. There was nothing wrong with me, no trauma, no family issues, nothing like that. I just got sick of hearing myself say stupid stuff. I was sick of hearing myself be a doughe bag, but I didn’t really know how to cope with self hate either. So I just stopped talking. But, back to Keith.  
He had a way with words that was so foreign and beautiful to me. He was the rudest, cutest, edgiest, boy I had ever met. I would have never guessed Id fall for someone like him, I was denying the possibility of falling for a boy in general. But, back to the beginning, because this is truly the most cliché but adorable story I could (and ever would) tell about myself.  
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I work as a bartender in a club called The Garrison. Well, I shouldn’t really call it a club, it’s more like a super late night coffee house that happens to serve a lot of alcohol.. But no coffee, so I guess it isn’t really a coffee house. Either way, lots of people come here, get drunk, listen to music, and watch the live performances. We host a lot of local performing artists, poets, musicians, you name it. I don’t ever get the chance to talk to them, but, I always love listening to them.  
I stand behind the bar and clean glasses while I listen to the music and poetry. Honestly, some of them are super angsty, really poorly angsty. Straight up emo. Especially Kogane. He comes weekly with a new piece every time he shows up. Now, I know I just dragged him through the mud calling his work poorly angsty and emo but… I really like it. I always talk to Allura about his pieces when he finishes before he comes to the bar. Allura works with me, we switch shifts all night and keep each other company if we don’t have plans (Which we usually don’t).  
“What’d you think?” I ask Allura quietly. I hold a small glass in my hand and wipe in clean. It’s definitely dry already, but I keep wiping it down so I look like I’m working hard.  
“Hm? The writing? It was good, Lance. You ask me every week.” Allura says. She’s super smart and cute, but she is more into stuff like philosophy and history than she is fine arts.  
“Well, Yeah, I know that…But,” I start to talk some more, I want to really talk about it and understand it. I stop myself though. I just have a feeling that I’ll say something stupid or… something.  
“It’s probably about his ex-girlfriend or something emo, right?” I joke and laugh a little.  
That was more stupid than anything else I was going to say. She looks at me and sips her drink and smirks like she wants to laugh. She shakes her head at me with a smile on her face.  
Keith walks up and sits at the bar. He has his hair tied up in a messy top knot. I walk over to him with the glass still in my hand.  
“Anything I can get for the poet?” I ask with a smug look but I still sound shy. Kind of sick actually. Which makes sense, I don’t really talk much unless I’m just throwing a dumb joke into a conversation.  
He looks up at me and squints a little, like he’s judging me.  
“Rum and coke, if you can handle that” He says and then smiles a little. He’s a smart ass.  
I turn around and grab the rum, pouring it into the glass. I do far to much fancy bartender magic than necessary and wink at some girl a few seats down from Keith. I turn back around and slide his drink to him. He nods at me, a thanks.  
I walk back over to Allura.  
“Why don’t you ever as him?” Allura asks.  
“What?” I respond, a bit confused.  
“You always ask ME about his poetry? Why not ask him? He always comes up to the bar. I could cover for you and the two of you could chat it up.” She says with a bit of excitement and winks at me.  
“What?! No.” I look over at him and for some reason feel a little embarrassed and kind of panicked. I don’t want to have to talk to him.  
“C’mon, C’mon, for me? What’s the worst that could happen? Seriously,” Allura coaxes me, “I’ll cover for you, just go sit next to him I’ll make you a drink.”  
I start to spew out a bunch of excuses on why I can’t and why I shouldn’t but she’s already stood up and started making her way around the bar and pushes me out from behind the counter. She turns me around and grabs my shoulders and gives me a super serious ‘just-let-me-help-you’ look.  
“Margarita? Mimosa? I can make it, just go sit with him!” She is basically bribing me at this point. I sigh and take a deep breath in.  
“Mimosa…” I sigh out and start to walk over to him.  
“Lovely!” She beams.  
I go up next to him and sit down, leaving one seat between us. He looks over at me for a second but I don’t look at him, I just stare at the table. Why am I so bubbly around Pidge and Hunk but all I can do without them is say dumb stuff and stare at the ground.  
Allura slides me my drink with a straw and hits my arms gently.  
“Talk to him” she mouths sternly.  
I sip my drink and swirl the straw around in the glass and look at him. Keith looks over at me and smiles a little. He scoots one seat over and closes the gap between us.  
“You write or just flirt with girls at the bar?” Keith asks, he takes the last sip of his drink.  
I take a second to respond, “I just like listening to the poetry” I mumble.  
“Yeah? You’re really quiet for someone who listens to slam poetry and makes drinks all night long”  
Well, yeah, he’s right. I laugh a little bit. It is kind of ironic. Bartenders aren’t usually closed off boys who are scared of talking and questioning themselves.  
“Do you have a reason for being so quiet or are you just nervous?” Keith asks me.  
“Nervous!? Nervous about what? You? No.” I stutter. I respond quickly to that. He laughs at me.  
“OK, well then tell me something,” Keith says softly, he wants to make me comfortable. Or at least it sounds that way. Maybe that’s just how poets talk, though.  
“Something like what?” I ask, what does he even want to know, Jeez.  
“Like… your name, maybe?” He states with a judgmental and questioning tone. Oh. Yeah, I hadn’t told him my name yet.  
“Lance...” I say, “My name’s Lance, and you’re Keith.”

“How’d you know my name?” He asks me  
“You…say it every time you perform a piece, you’re here every week.” I laugh a little, I felt stupid but then he asked me a dumb question so I feel less dumb.  
“Oh. Yeah,” He laughs and puts his hand on his face, “Well then, Lance, I’ll see you next week right?”  
I smile “Yeah, remember I’ll be listening to your piece,” I say in a jokingly warning tone.  
Keith laughs and stands up, “Better be, I don’t come here to talk to no one.”  
He starts to walk away and I sip on my mimosa again and watch him walk out and keep my eye on him even after the door shuts behind him.  
“So!” Allura says loudly with a wide grin on her face. I jump a little from the shock of her loud voice. “Was I right? Are you going to speak with him again?” She asks.  
I smile but wipe the look off my face quickly and turn away. “I dunno…maybe.” Yes.  
My answer should have been yes. Because, I was definitely going to talk to him the next time he came in and I was planning on talking to him that week and the week after and the week after that.. and so on and so forth. So I went home to Pidge, Hunk, and my apartment and plopped onto my bed and laid there thinking about next week. And then laid there longer and hated myself to getting so excited about it.


End file.
